It’s a day we’ve felt was coming for a while, but that doesn’t make the news any harder to take.

I’m sure everyone has their own special Munson moment, but I’ll always be grateful for the way he rekindled my love for college football with his call of the ’78 Kentucky game. Lewis Grizzard once described that call as better than being there; he would get no argument from me about that.

Bless you, Larry, and thanks. It’s just a shame that you can’t deliver your own eulogy.

You could the hear the Second World War in his voice. In his voice you could hear the smokey fishing cabins in Minnesota and the smokey night clubs of Nashville. Something like gravel. Something like experience. Something tested and real. Authentic.

When they say they won’t make another one like Larry Munson that’s because they literally CAN NOT. He cut his teeth in an era when Radio was King and “Get the picture” literally meant the only way for thousands upon thousands of people to participate in an event. It meant so much to Larry because he knew how much radio and college sports meant.

Of course, they also cannot make another Larry Munson because of the ESPN-ization–Syracuse School of Broadcasting–Blandness that has swept most of college broadcasts. Don’t believe me? Cruise the XM Radio College Dial some Saturday. You’ll find the absence of personality and authenticity or you’ll find some squeaky homer who thinks raising his voice a lot + using the pronoun “we” = Passion.

What are my favorite Larry Munson moments? They’re likely to be the same as yours. As everyone’s. “My God a Freshman.” “Hunker it down one more time. Auburn up to the line on the 21…” “We jump up in the corner…Touchdown, touchdown, my God a touchdown…is that Ben Watson? Michael Johnson. Michael Johnson…”

I loved him calling UGA basketball, even if he was a step or two behind college basketball’s pace. I loved him and Jeff Van Note calling Falcons games, especially in the playoff run in 1991. “We’re in the Red Gun, Shotgun thing…” I loved lazy summer evenings when college football seemed a world away, but there was Larry on Sunday evening on AM 750, whose very voice somehow, even in summer, carried the leaves and smoke of fall.

On one of the coldest days of my life–December 24, 1989–I and about 323 other people had the joy of watching the horrible Atlanta Falcons play the horrible Detroit Lions (17 degrees, Merry Christmas everyone!) This was, of course, outside, where football should be, in Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. It was so cold that we as a crowd moved en masse with the sun around the stadium. It was so quiet that you could hear assistant coaches talking to players on the sideline. Not yelling. Just talking. At one point, in the second half, I looked up to the press box to see Larry Munson and Van Note standing out–Larry with a cigar and a coffee cup, Van Note with his hands in his pockets.

During a break in the action, I walked up the stadium stairs to underneath the open booth. I, being all of twelve years old. I, being a child who loved UGA football more than any boy should. Loved it enough to call Coach Dooley and Larry and ask just questions like, “Coach–do you think we’ll ever wear the red pants on the road again?” And Larry dutifully put me through.

Under the booth, I waved to Munson and Van Note, who both smiled and waved back. I cupped my hands to my mouth and yelled, “I love you Larry.” (Again, an emotional kid.) “Love you too,” he yelled out.

He got it. He understood. And I am so glad that out of all the moronic things that my 12-year old self was capable of saying, I said that.

You are on the money with your tribute. I loved the Sunday night radio show and everything else Larry did. My older brother had this old cassette tape years ago with a lot of 60’s and 70’s Larry calls. They sounded like he was in a foxhole calling a war. I listened to that tape over and over – gave me chills. We all saw this day coming, but I still teared up this morning when I found out. We’ll always love you Larry.

I haven’t taken my headset into the games since he retired. My wife refused to sit with me at the games because “you never talk to me since you’re always listening to Larry Munson!”. I’ve got his picture hanging in my office along with Herschel and Vince. Man, I am gonna miss him. Thanks everyone for your memories, I especially enjoyed reading JD’s story.

No one brings headsets to the game anymore. It was bad enough to lose Larry for away games when he retired, but it used to be that if a player disappeared, you could ask one of a dozen people around you what happened to him and find out. The headset sort of isolated you, but it also connected and made the stands more of a community.

I will never forget Johnson’s catch on the plains watching it with my father, switching between my 3 “lucky” shirts. We of course had Larry on in the house, calling the game as he always would 3 seconds before tv could. I never saw the catch live because I was screaming and jumping long before the tv could show me what Larry already told me.
We’ll miss you dear friend. DGD.

The best there ever was. Thanks for the memories… I remember being at the Sigma Chi house in 1978 listening to the UGA-UK game. “Rex Robinson outta Marietta, Georgia..!!”. Then we went to the Athens airport to greet the team as they returned from the game. Indeed, thanks for the memories Larry.

Munson’s Appleby to Washington call has a special place in my memories as well. As a 15 year old kid, I happened to tune into the 75 Cocktail Party just before the play–first time ever listening to UGA football. The call was electrifying! “And Washington, thinking of Montreal and the Olympics, ran out right out of his shoes….” I was hooked! I knew UGA was where I wanted to go to college–rewarded with the Herschel Walker years while there. Coincidentally, I’m in Montreal on business this week.

The Kevin Butler call to beat Clemson. “The stadium is worse than bonkers”. Or later in the call: “I can’t believe what he just did. This is ungodly.”

I was too young to hear it live and remember it, but my dad always mentions the Kevin Butler kick whenever a team we root for (Dawgs and Falcons) tries to win one with a last second FG. Years later he gave me a VHS (before DVD) that had Munson’s famous calls and this was my favorite. I still have it and contemplating getting it out of the closet and ripping it the PC. Later on, my senior year in high school we would hang out on Saturday nights in an abandon parking lot and on one particular night the Dawgs were on the verge of upsetting LSU in Baton Rouge and we all sat on the tailgate and listened to Larry guide us through Quincy Carter’s comeback that led us to a big road win. Went crazy when we went ahead for good. RIP Larry.

”You know, this game has always been called the World’s Greatest Cocktail Party – do you know what is going to happen here tonight, and up in St. Simons, and Jekyll Island, and all those places where all those Dawg people have got these condominiums for four days? Man is there going to be some property destroyed tonight.”

Larry took us to games with him. Before every game was televised or on the interwebs or you had the money/time or tickets go yourself.Larry took us with him. He told us what he saw but more importantly told us what he and we felt. He got it right to… when he pointed out after the Linsey Scott run that “he gave up so do you” he was right most of us had. I have to say I’m with the Senator Rex Robinson’s field goal at KY was the call that made me realize the that when journalists call someone a homer and meant it as a bad thing they were ,as they are prone to be,dead wrong . Just because Larry never said the field goal was good or that we scored a touchdown doesn’t mean we didn’t know…. We knew Larry .Rest in Peace.

I spent a few years working in broadcasting right after college, and I found myself in the UGA press box several times during those years. When you’re covering news and sports, you run across plenty of celebrities. I did stories on Mel Gibson, worked alongside some of the ESPN guys, it never really resonated with me. But the first time I saw Larry Munson walk through the press box with his shuffling gait, white towel draped around his neck as if he was just coming from a workout and not heading into a broadcast booth to call a football game, I took note. Everyone did. The crowd of media in the press box was just like me, long since past being phased by celebrity. But I think everyone was still moved by gravitas, and it was attached to Larry Munson. Everyone stopped and took note when Munson walked through. For me, it was the only time that I was truly star struck. I never worked up the nerve to talk to him, but I was in the circle of other reporters who spoke with him. It sounds ridiculous to say it, but I felt absolutely giddy to learn that his voice really DID sound like that in real life.

Larry Munson was uniquely Georgia, and he was part of what has made Georgia football so special. There’s really no better way to sum up the impact that he had on the school and the sport than to point out the number of tributes going up around the football landscape from fans and media at other schools. I’ve gotten dozens of texts from friends who went to Auburn, Tech, Kentucky, South Carolina, and Clemson. These are people that I have literally been in shouting matches during lower drunken moments over football rivalries. They’re all just as awe of Munson as we Dawgs were, and they’ve been shooting me texts with their favorite calls. In more than one case, they’re the calls of the Dawgs beating their team.

Georgia’s always going to have a broadcast team, but we’ve lost our voice. I mean no insult to anyone else who does the job. For me, there’s only one Voice of the Georgia Bulldogs.

Perhaps the greatest thing about “Run, Lindsay (Run)!” is in fact, he only says the first two words. It’s the rest of Bulldawg Nation that adds the final “Run!” to be as one with the Greatest Announcer to Ever Live.

He was always a part of the family…as if he lived in the stereo down the hall from my bedroom in the living room where we all gathered to watch the Dawgs play.
Got to meet him one time at an autograph signing along with my dad. I remember my dad shaking with nerves getting ready to meet him. Rest in peace, my dear friend…and thank you so, so much. What a blessing from God you were in my life.

I know the SECCG is supposed to be a “neutral” site game. Do they let both teams play their pre-game “fire up” videos like they did for the UGA-Boise State game? If so, we need to play the “Battle Hymn” video with Larry’s voice before that game. If he had to go, I would have loved to have had one more home game left after his passing so we could honor him properly.

We can honor Larry by beating Tech. If you have a ticket, show up early. If you don’t, open your windows so your neighbors can hear you cheer as you’ve done so many times in response to his calls. Let’s celbrate on Saturday and make it for Larry.

Knew it was coming, but still hard to deal with. Even when I was a student, I was never embarrassed to rock the huge headphone radio with the footlong antenna so I could listen to Larry at the games. Had to buy a new one after the hurricane during the 1996 Texas Tech game. Best investment ever. We’ll miss you Larry. When the battle of Armageddon happens, I hope God lets you call the action. “Jesus and the armies of good, who have been decimated by injury….”

I was a student at UGA when Dooley and Munson came on board.
I was on the 50 yard line when Washington scored.
I was there when Buck hit Lindsey.
I recall walking past Larry on campus and greeted him.
In life the things you treasure are the people who make your life better, enrich it, and give you satisfaction of being part of something. I am glad and blessed to have my life on this earth touched by this man. He made it more complete.
Whenever the Dawgs play, and you look up into the sky from the campus and Sanford Stadium you know the Voice of the Dawgs is looking down on UGA and the Dawgs…wanting us all to hunker down for our beloved University and Dawgs.
Thanks so much Larry Munson!

I will post nothing in tribute after reading Jerome’s above. Dang man, Larry isn’t the only one that “got it”, it is very clear Jerome gets it as well. Tthanks Jerome for speaking for so many of us who feel the same but cannot articulate our feelings as well.

RIP Larry, we know you can feel the love. Thanks for the memories Fellow Dawg, you have enriched all of our lives.

My dad’s a UVa man. The first time we played the ‘Hoos in the Peach Bowl, I let him listen to Munson on my headphones at the game. He kept them the entire game, and proclaimed that that was the best goddamn sports announcer he’s ever heard. Dad still pulls for his ‘Hoos, but I credit Munson with turning him into a Dawg fan.
RIP Larry DGD!

You knew it would come.
But it is hard to believe how he was UGA and is now gone.
I use to think that if GOD was a football coach he would sound like Coach Bear Bryant.
If GOD was a college football play-by-play announcer…well, he would have to sound like Larry Munson.
Thanks Larry for all those games, those great calls, and all the great times we had trying to sound like you.

I met him at a Bulldog Club meeting in Dalton, 1998.When I asked if I could have my picture made with him, he seemed genuinely suprised that someone would want their picture made with HIM. A copy of that picture sits on my mantle and a copy sits on an end table at my parents house.